Safe
by Aviana Frost
Summary: Ranger receives a voicemail from Stephanie that changes everything. Babe - Extreme Angst - One shot. Not a fairy tale ending, so avoid if darkness bothers you.


Author's note: Obviously these characters don't belong to me, and I am not making money from borrowing them. Because I'm not the lovely J.E., the characters are not behaving as they probably would within the books.

This story contains extreme angst, adult language, and potentially disturbing situations. And please bear with me on the technical aspect - I don't know how long a voice mail can be, so let's assume it continues until the caller hangs up, shall we? That's all. I hope you enjoy.

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Ranger pushed back from his desk and stood, rolling his tight shoulders in circles. He had spent the majority of the day buried in paperwork without stopping for a lunch break. Four RangeMan contracts were up for renewal, and each required his attention and approval. One in particular was with a prestigious law firm in the heart of Trenton; that one had taken most of the afternoon to review.

He rotated his head to each side, popping his neck. He probably should have delegated some of the paperwork to Tank, but he felt a sense of obligation to his clients to oversee their contracts personally. His cramped muscles heavily disagreed with his decision though, and he decided a hot shower and a meal would make a fine end to such a long and tedious day.

Ranger flipped his computer off, set the contract renewals in his outbox for the courier and grabbed his cell phone on the way out the door. He headed to the elevator, his eyes sweeping over the nervous employees at the desks and cubicles who were now feverishly trying to look busy under his gaze. He strode past them without comment and hit the button on the wall, stepping into the empty elevator when it arrived.

He leaned heavily against the back wall, allowing his eyes to close. God, he was tired. A small part of him wondered if he'd last through a shower on his feet. Ridiculous, really... he'd survived much worse on his missions. Still though, it was surprising how physically tired you could get from doing mental work. He was beginning to reconsider his personal hands-on approach.

The phone was still clutched in his hand, and Ranger peered down at it, heavy-lidded. He'd turned it off that morning, instructing Comm. to patch only emergency calls to his office. He'd wanted absolutely no distractions when he was ass-deep in paperwork and legal forms. Absently he powered the phone up, and it began beeping insistently at him as he stepped onto the 7th floor. He accessed his voice mail as he entered the apartment, setting his keys down in the silver dish near the door.

"You have three unheard messages," the automated voice told him cooly. "First unheard message."

"Hey man, we got Horatio," Tank said. The hiss of traffic in the background suggested that he was at a truck stop near the freeway. "We should be back by 1500." Ranger checked his watch. That was three hours ago. He made a mental note to ask Tank about the takedown after the shower and food were taken care of.

"Second unheard message."

"Carlos, it's your mother. You never call me, hijo! It's shameful for a son to-"

"Message deleted. Third unheard message."

Silence for a few seconds, then, "Ranger."

He paused halfway through unlacing his boot. Stephanie's voice sounded... haunted. Different. He pressed the phone closer to his ear, frowning.

"I guess, in a way, I'm glad you're not answering. It would make this... harder." Another pause. "I've been doing a lot of thinking lately, and I'm not happy. It's nothing new... I haven't been happy for a long time, but denial isn't working for me anymore. I..." She blew out a frustrated sigh into the mouthpiece. "I probably **should** be happy. My rent gets paid on time, my hamster doesn't bite me, I haven't blown up a car lately, I have a boyfriend who loves me..."

Ranger's mouth tightened. He didn't want to hear a confession of love for Morelli right now. It was only her tone that kept him from deleting her message right then.

"...but it isn't enough. I tried to make it enough, but..."

There was a humorless laugh that sounded suspiciously like a sob. It was enough to put Ranger back on his feet and headed toward the elevator. The shower could wait.

"I'm just tired of it, Ranger. I don't want to be a joke anymore. My entire existence is just one big punch line for people. The cops at the station bet on me more than the races. My mother's on Valium because she can't handle a daughter who screws up like I do. And Joe..."

There was a long pause. Ranger punched the G button and the elevator doors slid shut.

"Joe says he supports me, but it feels like patronization. He doesn't take me seriously." Another humorless laugh. "I know what you're thinking. Why should he, right?"

Ranger's frown deepened. He hadn't been thinking that. He shifted from foot to foot. He didn't like the defeated tone in her voice. She wasn't the kind of person to give in to despair. He swept through the elevator doors and toward his Porsche.

"I just feel like everything's a joke to people, and I can't live that way anymore. I've tried, but... it's killing me, Ranger."

Ranger's heart constricted painfully, and he fumbled with his keys before fitting them in the lock. He threw the door open, jumped inside, and fired up the engine without bothering with his seatbelt. He transferred the phone to speaker mode, and Stephanie's voice floated toward him through the car's interior.

"You're one of the only people who never tried to stop me from doing skip tracing." Her voice was calmer now, gentle. "You were always patient with me. You offered me help when I needed it. You didn't tell me I should quit and find a real job. You were just there for me. That really meant a lot."

He switched lanes, ignoring the horn of the car he'd nearly clipped and the hand gesture that followed. He gunned the engine through a yellow light and took a corner so fast his tires squealed in protest.

"Sometimes it felt like there was something between us." Her voice was still soft, but sadness crept into it. "Sometimes you would look at me or touch me, and I would swear there was something..." She drifted off, and Ranger's fingers tapped nervously on the steering wheel. "The night that we... well, that night... it was the best night of my life," she said quickly, obviously embarrassed, and hurried on. "I know you didn't mean it to be anything besides sex, and that you don't do relationships. I knew that even then, and I accepted that it was a one-time thing that meant nothing. But then you'd look at me, and I'd start to hope..."

He closed his eyes briefly and exhaled sharply. He hated playing with her emotions. He'd wanted to keep her at arm's length, had sent her back to Morelli all but gift-wrapped, had tried to keep his distance and stay away from her, but she kept drawing him back in like a fly to honey. He was horribly addicted to her, and he never managed to keep his hands (and mouth) away from her for very long. It wasn't fair to her and he knew that.

"I've been living the past few months in some sort of limbo. I've been hoping things will get better at work, that maybe I'll start to improve. Maybe my cars will stop exploding, and maybe the cops will get tired of betting on me. Maybe my mom will take up knitting instead of lamenting over my shortcomings. Maybe you won't walk away next time."

Her voice cracked at the last bit, and she took a shaky breath before continuing. "I'm sorry. I know you don't want to hear that. I'm not confused about who you are, and I know you like to keep your life private. I've tried to be realistic about you, and it's just not possible for me. You accidentally made me feel things that Joe couldn't achieve on his best day, and it's hard to give up on that. Although I care for Joe, I'm in love with you, Ranger."

Ranger almost crashed into the Hummer stopped ahead. His heart thudded painfully in his chest, and he had to remind himself to breathe. Holy shit, she loved him. He knew she had a hero complex about him, but was it possible that she actually wanted to be with him? He kind of doubted it; lots of women wanted to be with their fantasy, until reality came crashing down. She wouldn't be thrilled to know he was an actual person. Her fantasy would probably come undone the first night she discovered that refried beans gave him the runs. She probably thought Batman doesn't get intestinal issues.

He was only a few blocks from her apartment now, and traffic was heavy with people leaving work. Her voice was still filling the car, and he struggled out of his thoughts to listen.

"Anyway, I didn't call to say that. I hadn't really planned on confessing that to you, and I don't want to make you feel guilty. I just thought you deserved a reason, even if it doesn't seem like a good one to you. My life is..." Another shaky breath, and the soft rustle of her hair. She was shaking her head vigorously. Her voice had become more quiet, and she sounded like she was slowly drifting off. "My life is a wreck, and I can't handle it anymore. I don't want to spend any more time treading water. I've tried to swim, and I can't seem to go anywhere. I feel helpless all the time, and I'm tired of it. I'm so tired."

She did sound tired. Her words were beginning to slur, and there was another long pause where she stopped to collect her thoughts. It suddenly occurred to Ranger exactly why she had called him, and he floored the accelerator and angled the Porsche onto the sidewalk, bypassing the long stream of traffic blocking his way. He fought back his nausea and prayed he wasn't too late.

"I don't want you to blame yourself," she murmured to him. "This isn't anything you've done. You've kept me going. You were the one person who held me up. This probably would have happened a long time ago without you here."

"**Get the fuck out of the way!"** Ranger roared, nearly mowing down a pedestrian outside the corner store. He collided with a trash can, sending the metal bin flying over his hood and raining debris everywhere. _Don't do this, Steph_, he thought to himself. _Please don't._

"I don't want my parents to know," she said, her words slow and deliberate. "Or Joe. I don't want them to carry that with them. If they ask you why, please don't tell them. They won't understand." There was another long pause, and Ranger bit the inside of his cheek hard enough to draw blood. "I think you probably understand though. You know me better than anyone."

Her parking lot came into view, and the Porsche flew into it. He screeched to a halt right outside the front doors, and he quickly disconnected the phone from the car and jumped out, not even pausing to turn the engine off. He took the stairs three at a time, his stomach in his throat. The phone was still on speaker, and her tired voice continued.

"You kept me alive," she breathed. The strength was gone from her voice, and she was all but whispering now. "You kept me going. I love you for that." Another breath, and this time he heard the rattle in it. "I love you, Ranger..."

He raced out onto her floor and body checked her front door. It went flying open, and he ran into the darkness of her apartment. Rex was running on his wheel. The setting sun allowed a sliver of light into the apartment, throwing huge shadows on the walls and across the furniture. Ranger saw none of it. The phone in his hand had gone silent and he dropped it as he crossed to her bedroom.

The door stood open, and Stephanie lay sprawled on her bed. She was dressed in ordinary clothes, her hair fanned out across her face and pillow. He'd found her sleeping like this countless times before. He willed his feet to move, and they took one unsteady step and then another. He knelt beside the bed and brushed the hair away from her face. She looked so peaceful. There were no worry lines on her face, no creases on her brow... and no warmth in her skin. His left hand, dangling at his side, grabbed the empty pill bottle it'd bumped against on the floor. He stared at it, unseeing, then back at her. He stroked her cheek, so strangely cool under his flaming fingertips.

Ranger stood, set the bottle down on the night stand, and kicked off his boots. One connected with the phone she'd dropped, sending it spinning underneath the bed. He climbed in beside her, pulling her close and wrapping his arms possessively around her body. He buried his face in her hair. He could feel the absence of her pulse, the way she wasn't breathing, and something very close to psychosis threatened to claw its way out of him. He ignored it, memorizing the scent of her freshly shampooed hair, the way her body felt spooned against his.

She'd said she loved him. He didn't know if that was exactly true, but he knew without a doubt that he loved her. He loved her, and she never knew. She'd spent the last months of her life thinking he didn't want her. Tears threatened to come, but he refused to let them fall. He wouldn't allow himself the comfort of expressing his grief... not yet. He allowed himself to do nothing but hold her, vainly offering her the comfort she'd needed an hour ago while he was too busy being a businessman.

She'd asked him not to feel guilty, but there was no chance of that. None. He should have seen her pain. He shouldn't have let her go through life not knowing what she meant to him. He shouldn't have sent her back to the cop. He shouldn't have turned off his phone. He shouldn't have walked out of her bedroom. He shouldn't have turned his back on her. He shouldn't have let her go.

He knew that once they took her away, he would probably lose all touch with reality. He could already feel himself beginning to break down just underneath the surface. Dimly he wondered if anyone had noticed her absence. Painfully he wondered if he would have noticed, either. He'd routinely gone weeks at a time without contacting her. How long would her body have laid here? Who would have known what the world had lost?

Ranger didn't know how much time had passed, but he was suddenly aware of another presence in the room. He ignored it, keeping his face firmly imbedded in her hair. Tank's voice carried over to him.

"Carlos."

Ranger didn't respond. He had no words. Tank walked out of the room, and Ranger could hear him talking. After a minute or so, he walked back in.

"Carlos, you don't need to be here. They're coming for her, and there are going to be a lot of questions that you probably don't want to answer right now. Let me take you back, okay?"

Ranger tightened his grip around Stephanie, and Tank let out a resigned sigh. The bed dipped under his weight as he sat on the corner, and they sat in uneasy silence as the minutes ticked by. Sirens shrieked in the distance, drawing closer as the room steadily darkened. It was almost full nightfall now. Ranger wondered dully how long she'd been gone from the world when he'd checked his voice mail. His heart skipped a beat and he laid a gentle kiss against the back of her neck, silently apologizing over and over.

Voices filtered in through the haze, and suddenly light blinded him. Hands were trying to peel him off of her, and instinctively he fought against them. He was abruptly pulled backwards off the bed by Tank, and he had a moment of clear panic as the contact with Stephanie was broken. He began yelling then, threats and obscenities flying from his mouth as the EMT's rolled her onto her back and began CPR. White hot anger filled him, and his yells became shouts, and eventually the words died away until he was raging incoherently. The tears were flowing freely now, and he was fighting against Tank's grip with every bit of his strength. He wasn't ready to let her go yet. He wasn't ready to start living without her.

Tank was saying something, but the words were meaningless to him. He didn't feel the needle stab into his thigh or the burn as the sedative was pushed into his body. He continued to scream until the blackness enveloped him. His last thought was of her dying words.

"I love you, Ranger..."

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The title for this one-shot was taken from a song by Dido. It's one of the most sad, defeated songs I've ever heard, and it's always been one of my favorites. I recently rediscovered the album while packing some of my cd's away, and the moment I heard the song, this story came to me. If you have time, I suggest finding the song and listening. It's amazing.

Dido - Honestly OK

I just want to feel safe in my own skin  
I just want to be happy again  
I just want to feel deep in my own world  
but I'm so lonely I don't even want to be with myself anymore

On a different day if I was safe in my own skin  
then I wouldn't feel so lost and so frightened  
But this is today and I'm lost in my own skin  
and I'm so lonely I don't even want to be with myself anymore

I just want to feel safe in my own skin  
I just want to be happy again


End file.
